


Star Wars: Smugglers

by JoeyJoJo1138



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Child Soldiers, Class Differences, First Order, First Order Politics (Star Wars), Gen, New Republic Era (Star Wars), New Republic Politics (Star Wars), Organized Crime, Outer Rim Planets (Star Wars), Poor Life Choices, Slavery, Smuggling, The First Order Sucks, Twi'leks (Star Wars), farming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoeyJoJo1138/pseuds/JoeyJoJo1138
Summary: Two desperate smugglers accept a job from the First Order. The consequences of that decision will eventually force them to face their failures.
Kudos: 3





	1. Help Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to revise the story to better fit in with canon. Just goes to show that you should always do your research. I'm also going to rewrite some parts to make the story more cohesive. Things won't change much other than that.

Jiran Galak was wondering if New Republic prisons were really as bad as he had heard. He decided that it didn't really matter if they were. Almost anything was preferable to whatever the Hutts had planned for him if anyone managed to cash in on his bounty. If only he had saved up more of his credits. He grit his teeth. This was no time for wishful thinking. He needed to focus on this new job no matter how disagreeable it was. If he felt his conscience gnawing at him for taking on this particular job, he could take comfort in the fact that it was just business. Besides, listening to his conscience never helped him pay for fuel. As a matter of fact, a conscience is a liability in his line of work, especially when you're delivering for Imperial zealots.

First Order smuggling contracts were well paying, but incredibly rare. The amount of credits he stood to make did nothing to wash out the bad taste in Jiran's mouth. Something about delivering for Stormtroopers and ex-Imperials felt wrong. Not wrong enough to stop working for them altogether, mind you. Their credits were good, and unlike a lot of other groups that employed smugglers, they didn't try to screw you after you finished the job. They were about as good as bosses get in the underworld. As long as you weren't smuggling for the worlds they were subjugating they didn't care. The Hutt cartel and the various syndicates on the other hand, were known for having long memories and an even longer reach.

Jiran shivered as he remembered having a knife pressed against his throat on some podunk planet in the Outer Rim. Luckily, his co-pilot Calla had his back.

Calla Dimo had joined Jiran's crew because he was one of the few people who didn't try to add a bunch of conditions onto their partnership or have her pay for the opportunity. She was suspicious of how fast he accepted her request to be his co-pilot until she realized how desperate he was. It didn't take long for her to see that he needed a partner who wasn't afraid to make waves until they got what they were owed. And one that knew a bad plan when she saw one.

No, Calla's plans would never find them in a First Order base, negotiating a contract in a dark room with only one visible exit. Too bad their current financial situation left them with no choice. Sometimes she wished she hadn't burned all those bridges at the Academy.

"To clarify, you understand how important it is to avoid unwanted attention for this particular delivery and exchange, do you not?" The stern-faced Officer asked.

Jiran grinned. "Discretion is the most valuable tool in our trade. We'll avoid any New Republic attention in space or on Coruscant."

"That said, discretion does not come easily. Or cheaply." Calla added. "Especially if we are going to deliver to the Core."

The Officer ignored her. "I'm sure 20,000 credits is more than enough."

"Maybe for a less experienced crew. You're paying for quality. 30,000." Jiran replied.

The Officer frowned. "Your reputation hardly merits more compensation."

"Famous smugglers would not make very good smugglers, would they?" Calla asked.

The Officer sneered, but considered Calla's words before replying. "Very well. We’ll let your intended recipient know he’s to pay you another installment. Keep in mind that your advance will remain at 10,000." The Officer brought out a case from under the table. He slid it to Jiran, who opened it and was pleased with the amount of ingots inside. "You will receive your cargo along with instructions and coordinates from Lieutenant Taisho outside." The Officer motioned to the door and a trooper beckoned them to follow.

"So, are you Lieutenant Taisho?" Jiran asked the trooper as they walked towards the hangars.

The Trooper gave no reply.

"I doubt he is in the mood to chit chat." Calla responded.

Jiran chuckled. "I wouldn't be either if I had to wear what he's wearing. You know, I've heard that Clone Troopers were actually pretty fond of their armor. It was supposed to be super comfortable. I mean, once they had people familiar with human anatomy design it at least."

"I'm sure Clones liked the armor because all of them had the exact same measurements. Don't you get your clothes tailored?" Calla retorted.

"I guess that would probably help." Jiran conceded.

The smugglers are finally led to the hangar holding their ship, the Knight Errant. In front of it stood a woman with a large crate by her side. She looked at the duo without even an attempt to hide her disgust.

"Lieutenant." The Trooper greeted with a salute.

"Dismissed, trooper." Lt. Taisho ordered.

"So you're lieutenant Taisho. What've you got for us?" Jiran asked, walking up to Taisho and the crate.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, smuggler." Taisho stated, looking up at Jiran. "I've given the coordinates to your droid, your destination is the Imperial Center. I would also like to remind you and your," She glanced at Calla, "Twi'lek companion that the rest of your payment will be given once the delivery is complete."

Jiran nodded, ignoring Taisho's bait. "Of course." He looked over the crate. "It's not volatile, is it? We'd like to be sure we're taking all the necessary precautions. We'd also hate to miss a delivery on account of blowing up."

"I'm sure you would. Try not to damage the cargo or it'll be worthless. And under no circumstances should you allow the New Republic to discover this cargo. That is all you need to know. Goodbye." With that, Lieutenant Taisho turned and left the smugglers to load up their ship.

Calla shot Jiran a death glare before entering the ship. He sighed while he pushed the crate up the ramp.

As the Knight Errant travelled through hyperspace, Jiran decided it was as good a time as any to address the tension between himself and Calla.

"So that went well. We kept our cool and no one got hurt." Jiran stated while pretending to look at their course.

Calla didn't respond. She continued working on the Knight's weapons system.

"I mean, we've had worse negotiations. Remember when we did that job for that Nikto crime boss and he decided he would sell us as slaves instead of paying us the rest of our creds?"

Calla's grip on her tools tightened. She remembered that they barely made it out alive, and that she was the one they planned to keep.

"The pay is pretty good this time, too. We need this job." Jiran said. Calla thought he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

Calla set down her tools. She may as well set him straight. "No, you need this job. I am not the one in debt to a crime lord. I could leave you to do this by yourself without affecting my finances. But do you know why I stay?"

"You don't have a ship?" Jiran guessed.

Calla sighed. "Because knowing you puts a target on my head by association. Honestly, once we complete this job I think we should dissolve our partnership."

"What?! But we make a great team! And where else are you going to find a ship like this? Or a captain as charming as me?" Jiran pleaded.

"I said I was thinking about leaving and here you are almost driven to tears. As for the ship," Calla knocked on a panel, "I'm sure I can find one as great as this old YT-1930."

"I get it. Thanks for letting me know now and not jumping ship as soon as we reach the next planet." Jiran grumbled.

"Of course, Captain." Calla decided to change the subject. It wouldn't do to be arguing with each other in front of a new client. "So, any thoughts as to what we are supposed to deliver?" She asked, putting away her tools.

Jiran would be lying if he said he wasn't curious about their mystery cargo. "I'm not sure. Probably art or something else fragile. I doubt they'd have us move weapons to Coruscant, especially since it's just one crate. If anything, I think we're moving data."

"It's the First Order. Whatever it is, it's certain to ruin a lot of lives. I know we are far from innocent ourselves, but the First Order is something else entirely. Can you believe Lieutenant Taisho referred to Coruscant as the Imperial Center? After all these years?" Calla said.

"I know. It's not ideal but it's the best I could do. I mean, I'd prefer going back to running spice instead of this." Jiran said.

The smugglers go silent for a moment, realizing how badly this job could go if spice running is a preferable alternative.

Calla broke the silence. "I have an idea: we should inspect our cargo."

Jiran raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, and add the First Order to the ever increasing list of groups that want me dead? Why do you want to open the cargo up so badly, anyway? How many times have we done a 'no questions asked' job where you were perfectly happy to leave our cargo alone?"

"I can recall multiple instances of you having the same idea, with me being the one to tell you to leave well enough alone." Calla replied.

"We're not talking about me right now." Jiran said with a frown.

Calla huffed. "Fine. I find it strange, that's all. This is First Order cargo. They hate working with smugglers. It's really quite mysterious."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to live with this mystery unsolved." Jiran stated.

Calla thought for a moment before her face lit up. "They never said not to open it."

"It was implied." Jiran pointed at Calla. "They hinted at it."

Calla smirked at how Jiran didn't seem to mind how weak that justification was. He was cracking. "I'm surprised you picked up on that. Of course, I am still in favor of opening up that crate."

Jiran sighed and followed Calla to the cargo hold. "You know, Rocky should probably be the one to open it."

The crate sat in the cargo hold. If there was a booby trap, at least they could seal it in.

"Are you ready?" Calla asked.

"Yeah." Jiran turned to R0-K13, his customized R-series astromech droid. "Are you ready Rocky?"

Rocky beeped affirmatively. The droid extended a scomp link and began interfacing with the crate. After a few moments, nothing happened. Rocky removed his scomp. Seeing that still nothing happened, he booped angrily and struck the crate with his body.

"Easy! We're trying to do this without leaving any evidence!" Jiran chastised the droid.

Rocky rolled away while beeping angrily.

"Care to let me try now?" Calla asked, holding up her slicer keys.

Jiran started to say something, when the crate suddenly opened to reveal several smaller containers. He put on a pair of gloves and pulled one out.

"Wait, are those camtonos?" Calla asked.

"Yeah. Doesn't look like they're smuggling weapons, but there might be some data drives in here. Or maybe some cortosis ingots. The weight of this camtono is real weird, though." Jiran popped open the top.

Calla gasped. Inside of the camtono were several glass tubes holding beautiful crystals. Jiran and Calla looked at each other before they quickly pulled out the other camtonos and discovered more crystals within. They both began laughing uncontrollably as they admired the crystals. Their laughter caused R0-K13 to poke his head in to check on them before deciding that it'd be best if he went back to navigating.

"Kyber crystals! Do you know what this means!" Jiran exclaimed.

Calla held up a crystal in its tube. "We should have negotiated for a larger payment?"

Jiran smiled even wider. "Exactly! How much do you think we can get out of them?" Jiran asked, already running his own numbers.

"Hold on, I think we may be getting ahead of ourselves. This is the First Order. They will absolutely kill us if they think we mean to extort them." Calla warned.

"You're only saying that because you're not the one with a bounty on their head! What happened to all your curiosity about the cargo?" Jiran retorted.

"I said I was curious, not that I wanted to rob the First Order! Besides, we know nothing about who we're delivering this to. It's undoubtedly something to do with weapons research." Calla responds

"What do you mean? Like making lightsabers?" Jiran asked.

"No, heavy naval cannons. I recall reading some reports about the firepower on their Star Destroyers back when I was in the Academy." Calla moved the kyber in her hand towards the light. "Hard to believe these little crystals can do so much damage."

"You'd be surprised. I guess we better put these back before we get stopped for an inspection. We should be out of the Unknown Regions by now." Jiran said.

"I would be more concerned about pirates this far out in the galaxy." Calla said.

"Eh, pirates, Republic Customs Officers, what's the difference?" Jiran asked as he walked back to the cockpit.

This was a straightforward delivery contract. Easier than most in fact, since the smugglers only had one crate to worry about. The mystery of why the kyber crystals needed to go to Coruscant added no difficulty. The moral questions raised by this delivery had more palatable answers than when Jiran and Calla would deliver spice. Or weapons. They took solace in never having delivered sentients. Trafficking terrified and powerless people was something they had quietly agreed on avoiding. Jiran was already paying the price for listening to his conscience. As much as Calla gave him grief over it, she would have made the same choice he did.


	2. City Slickers

The Knight Errant landed at one of Coruscant’s many spaceports. Jiran and Calla’s orders were to bring the shipment onto the planet and complete an exchange with their client before returning to the First Order base. Hopefully that would be the last time either of them had to deal with the First Order for a while. They tried not to think about how there might not be a choice soon with the way galactic politics were headed.

Jiran ran a hand through his hair as he and Calla walked the package to a shiny speeder that had two humorless looking gentlemen waiting next to it. They fit the description of the contacts they were supposed to meet. A stout middle-aged man with graying hair and his younger, more muscular companion.

“You two kept us waiting. Come on.” The Older Man said.

“Got held up in an inspection. You know how it is.” Jiran replied.

“We hope you understand.” Calla added.

The Younger Man grinned. “Oh, we do.”

Jiran and Calla entered the speeder while the younger man loaded the package into the trunk. As the speeder moved through the air, Jiran looked around at the skyscrapers of Coruscant. The sun was setting and he saw the city lighting up in the distance. 

Being from the Outer Rim, Jiran wasn’t accustomed to being among so many people, much less seeing such sophisticated technology out in the open. He was used to open spaces filled with rolling hills, forests, and mountains. Not the sterile environment of Coruscant. Jiran looked forward to being planetside as an opportunity to stretch his legs and relax. As much as he liked his ship, he preferred the warmth of a sun and breathing fresh air to the cold and artificial climate provided by starships. Being on Coruscant didn’t make him feel like he really left the ship at all. Jiran wondered why Calla didn’t seem bothered. He decided to make conversation to ease his anxiety.

“So,” Jiran asked the younger man, “how long until we reach the safehouse?”

“Why? You eager to head back to your ship?” The Younger Man asked. “I don’t blame you, she’s a beauty.”

“Well if it were up to me, my associate and I would visit the Jedi Temple and all the other tourist traps, but we’re on a pretty tight schedule.” Jiran replied.

The Younger Man laughed. “I never saw smugglers as the museum-going type. Besides, not much left of the Jedi in there. The Emperor turned it into his palace, if you didn’t know. Been there myself once. Lot of talking and not much of the Jedi to see.”

“Shame.” Calla said. “How much longer until we reach the client?”

“Not much longer, just need to land.” The Older Man replied. 

“Land where? I thought we were going to the Underworld.” Jiran gestured at the skyscrapers around the speeder. “We’re still in the upper levels.”

“I know.” The Older Man responded without looking back.

The Older Man flew the speeder to the top level of a nearby skyscraper and landed on the private landing pad.

The group exited the speeder while the younger man went to unload the cargo from the trunk.

Jiran and Calla walked with the two men into the tower. The doors opened and revealed an opulent penthouse to the smugglers. Jiran looked around and saw a massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He tried to keep himself from showing how impressed he was.

“Have a seat, our employer will be out soon.” The Older Man said before leaving down a hallway.

“This is amazing.” Jiran said quietly as he settled onto a plush sofa. He looked around at the room’s furniture and artwork. His eyes were drawn to a pair of swords mounted on the wall. “Are those Commando Droid vibroblades?”

The Younger Man smiled. “Yeah. Our employer likes to collect antiques.”

“The Client must do very well for himself to have all this out on display.” Calla mused as she strolled around the room. She stopped in front of a glass case with metal cylinders inside. “And without anyone standing guard other than you.”

The Younger Man raised an eyebrow at Calla’s words. “Well what do you expect? This is as high up as you can get on Coruscant. No one comes in here without a reason. And if anyone did try to steal anything, it’s not like our employer doesn’t have ways to find out who took it. Or that they’d survive trying to leave with it.”

“He must be quite powerful to have so much confidence.” Calla said.

“You don’t know the half of it. I hope you’re not thinking of taking anything. Pretty girl like you just needs to ask anyway.” The Younger Man said. “I’m sure he’d be happy to give you a present.”

“I’ll be satisfied with payment for services rendered. Will our client be much longer?” Calla asked.

“I apologize for the delay.” A voice said. Jiran and Calla saw an old man hobbling towards them. “I had to make some final preparations before this meeting. Now then: Jiran Galak and Calla Lumina?”

Jiran and Calla walked over to the old man.

“A pleasure to meet you sir.” Jiran greeted him with a small bow.

“We thank you for your hospitality.” Calla added.

“The pleasure is mine. Especially for a rare beauty such as yourself. Norrin Cadar.” The Old Man said as he extended his hand to Calla. 

Calla reluctantly shook his hand and Jiran followed. 

“With introductions done, shall we move on to the matter of your compensation? I am sure you two don’t wish to spend time humoring an old man before being paid. Time is a precious commodity in your profession, no? Please, follow me.” Norrin turned and the smugglers followed. “I hope my men treated you well?” Norrin asked as they walked down a hall. 

“They were cool.” Jiran answered, paying more attention to the paintings on the walls.

“The older fellow seemed quite the professional. More so than his partner.” Calla replied. She noticed that both of the men in question had left rather suddenly. She mentally noted to be ready to draw her weapon.

Norrin turned around to face Calla as the group stopped in front of a doorway. “Oh? Well, Diiva is rather fond of attractive young women, but he means no harm. In any case, Kobin has served me well. It pleases me to hear your approval.”

Jiran frowned. “Diiva? Isn’t that a Hutt name?”

Norrin nodded. “Why yes. Diiva does indeed hail from Hutt Space. Are you from there as well, by any chance?” He asked.

“No.” Jiran answered. “I am from the Outer Rim, though. You have to keep track of who’s territory you’re in. Makes sense to be culturally sensitive.” 

“Always a wise choice.” Norrin said before opening the door.

The next room contained a long table and all the camtonos from the cargo placed upon it. The wall opposite the door was a window giving a view of Coruscant’s old Federal District. The Senate Rotunda and Jedi Temple were visible in the distance. Norrin took his place at the head of the table. He motioned for the smugglers to sit. 

“You don’t have to sit next to each other.” Norrin said, bothered by the awkward seating arrangement. He didn’t know why he bothered with the conference table if Outer Rim savages didn’t know how to sit at it. “Nevermind that. In exchange for the rest of your payment and completion of the contract, you must deliver cargo from myself to the First Order.”

“That was not what we agreed upon. We are to receive another installment from you before returning to the First Order.” Calla stated. 

Norrin nodded. “I am glad you mention that. You see,” Diiva and Kobin entered the room and stood off to the sides of the door, “I have had some trouble with finding trustworthy smugglers. You may think it impossible, considering the inherently deceptive nature and illegality of your profession, but such smugglers do exist. I want smugglers who don’t try to steal cargo and hope that their clients won’t notice.” Norrin pulled a camtono towards himself. “I want to know, are you the ones I’m looking for?”

Jiran and Calla fell silent as Norrin opened the camtono in his lap and inspected its contents. The smugglers’ muscles tensed in anticipation of a fight. Norrin suddenly tossed two crystals to Jiran and Calla.

Norrin smiled. “Good catch, both of you. The First Order requested that I withhold payment, so I would like you both to think of this as an invitation to work for me more often. I would also appreciate it if you do not mention this to the First Order.” Norrin said. He thought for a moment. “Most smugglers would see the kyber in their cargo hold and run off with it, but not you two. Tell me, why? It’s obviously worth more than what you were paid to deliver it.”

Jiran spoke first. He could almost feel Calla throttling him for not letting her do the talking. “I like to think Calla and I have a little something called integrity.” Jiran noticed Calla was looking at him and pointing her lekku into her back. “Besides, anyone who can source that much kyber has to be pretty powerful. To say nothing of what’ll happen once word gets out that someone lost a shipment of kyber and some other someones happen to have come into possession of a lotta kyber. We wouldn’t just be dealing with the underworld, but the New Republic would probably come after us too. And us stealing your kyber to sell is like if you decided to sell us instead of pay us. No need to complicate things.”

Norrin’s smile faded slightly. “So this was a logistical decision?” He looked the pair up and down. “I do have to say I think I could make a tidy profit on the Lethan.”

Calla decided to speak up before Jiran could, in order to prevent him from digging the holes was infamous for. “No. We delivered the cargo because we are professionals. Not because we are unable to sell it ourselves or for fear of the consequences. We took on a job and we completed it. What we would like to know now is what you wish for us to deliver. We were told there would be an exchange.”

“Very well. Now, please be aware that while this cargo is not as valuable monetarily as the kyber crystals, it is still important for you to treat it with the utmost care.” Norrin said.

“If I may ask, what is the cargo?” Calla said.

“I’d also like to know, sir.” Jiran added.

As if to answer, a young human woman walked in, followed by a large Trandoshan armed with a blaster rifle. Jiran's expression hardened while Calla attempted to keep her rage from surfacing again. 

“I’ve brought the cargo, ssir.” The Trandoshan said to Norrin.

“Thank you, Grick.” Norrin turned to Jiran and Calla again. “Now then,” he beckoned the young woman over to his side and she complied, “This lovely specimen is your cargo. It needs to be delivered to the very same First Order base you were dispatched from.” Before Jiran and Calla could rebuff him he continued. “You will receive full payment upon delivery.”

“And if we refuse?” Calla spat.

“Know your place, Twi’lek!” Grick snarled.

Norrin smiled again. “My dear, I would never force anyone into a job they felt morally obligated to decline. In fact, feel free to leave right now. You have my word that I will let you go without any trouble. I will send no one after you and you will not be harassed by any bounty hunters.” He closed the camtono that was still in his lap and placed it back onto the table. “Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for Captain Galak. He may leave as well, but it is my understanding that he has made some very powerful people very upset. How he has eluded them for this long is quite the mystery. One that would serve me well if I were to solve it.”

Jiran and Calla looked at each other. During their partnership they had committed the usual crimes a smuggler would be guilty of. Gun running, drug smuggling, illegal ship modifications. What they had not done was smuggle sentients. It was simply a line they wouldn’t cross, for one reason or another. 

After a few moments, Jiran answered. “We’ll do it.”

“Excellent. Now, Miss Lumina, please be sure to keep Captain Galak from making use of the cargo. I have a reputation to maintain and would hate for your captain to sully it with a misguided desire for vengeance. Diiva and Kobin will take you back to your ship.”

Diiva and Kobin made their way towards the smugglers before Calla spoke up. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

Norrin had not expected for either of the smugglers to respond to him. As far as he was concerned, this discussion was over. “What I mean to say is, it would be unfortunate if Captain Galak decided to force himself on the cargo before it was delivered as a form of revenge, because then I would have to add to the ever increasing bounty on his head and place one on you as well. If you value your freedom you will prevent such an occurrence. Am I clear, or should I have him shot to save you the trouble?”

“We’re good.” Jiran said as he stood up. “Come on Calla, let’s go.”

Calla opened her mouth in protest, but decided against it. She was backed into a corner. As her and Jiran silently made the trip back to the ship she thought about what was happening. She had betrayed possibly the only principle she had left.


	3. Shipment Delays

Grick placed a shock collar and cuffs on the slave girl. As a finishing touch he attached a chain from the girl’s cuffs to the base of the Knight Errant’s game table. “There. Ssshe won’t be giving you any trouble with thessse.” Grick said while handing off the keys and control switch to Jiran.

Jiran and Calla said nothing in response. Jiran thought that the collar was a little much. The cuffs were understandable, but he doubted that this slip of a girl was going to find the opportunity to escape in the middle of space. He also doubted that she would feel inclined to make use of the game table. 

Grick lazily waved goodbye as he left the ship. With the “cargo” secured, the smugglers plotted their course. Once the Knight Errant cleared Coruscant’s orbit, they jumped towards the Outer Rim.

When smuggling, care must be taken to switch up the routes you use. Doubly so if there is a price on your head. Add in a slave or two, and you had the recipe for an extremely convoluted trip. Smuggling sentients wasn’t as straightforward as smuggling spice or weapons. To say the least, it was difficult to get government officials to look the other way. 

Although the trip would be longer this time around, Jiran hoped that using older hyperspace routes would keep the Knight Errant hidden from any danger. Except for pirates, of course. Then again, a lot of pirates these days made use of TYE-wings, so there wasn’t much real danger as long as your gunner was sober and had half a brain. Jiran was fairly certain Calla’s brain extended into her head tails, so they were covered on that front. Jiran sighed as he thought about how he really should hire a full-time gunner.

Calla turned to face him with a glare. “Feeling guilty already? My my, I’m surprised your conscience has shown itself so soon. We only left the Coruscant System hours ago.”

“Look, I already feel bad enough. I could do without you razzing me about it.” Jiran said, looking over his coordinates for the dozenth time. They were well on their way through the Expansion Region.

Calla rolled her eyes. “Slave trading will do that to you.”

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent here. You had a choice back there. Maybe you should have followed your heart.” Jiran growled.

“What are you implying, Captain?” Calla asked. 

Jiran turned to Calla so quickly the seat’s swivel locked up. Once he was fully turned, he began to argue with her. “You’re not stuck with me! You’re choosing to be here, so don’t act like you’re not a part of this! You think I want to deliver a slave?!”

Calla stood and towered over the still sitting Jiran. “It seems to me that you do! You caved in so quickly!” She leaned in and gripped the shoulders of Jiran’s chair. “I have put up with you and your idiotic behavior longer than most. I must say that my patience is running quite thin.”

“Funny, you have a lotta patience when we’re running weapons and drugs. At least this way we know only one person’s getting hurt.” Jiran responded with a scowl. “Maybe you’d have less patience if you had to look into the face of everyone those blasters get fired at.”

Calla let go of his chair and stood up straight. Jiran watched as the Twi’lek stormed out of the cockpit. He’d seen her temper flare before, but never directed at him. Jiran tried to push his guilt away. It didn’t matter how either of them felt about this job. They needed to deliver. 

Jiran went into the lounge to check on the girl. He hoped he wouldn’t find Calla doing the same. Luckily, the only one in the room with the girl was Rocky. He seemed to be interested in observing the new organic rather than doing his job of making sure the ship ran smoothly. The girl didn’t seem too fond of Rocky, if her terrified expression was anything to go by. 

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be making sure our life-support doesn’t fail?” Jiran asked the droid. Rocky gave a startled beep in response and reluctantly rolled out of the lounge.

With Rocky gone, Jiran and the girl looked at each other. “So,” Jiran began, “has the red Twi’lek come in here to check on you?” He asked.

The girl said nothing in response. She simply sat on the lounge’s couch and stared at him. Jiran stared back, and by doing so he got his first good look at her. She looked older than he thought, the girl couldn’t have been more than a handful of years younger than himself or Calla. He supposed that her short stature exaggerated her youth when next to Grick. It didn’t help that she was wearing a plain style of dress worn mostly by young girls on backwater planets. Oddly enough, she didn’t seem malnourished. Slaves, in Jiran’s experience, usually didn’t get fed an adequate amount. Most slavers tried their best to keep their slaves from having more energy than they needed to just barely function. This girl’s cheeks were full, and her tan skin was clear. Her dark hair was thick and shiny. Most noticeably her large, golden eyes showed no signs of exhaustion. She averted her gaze as soon as his eyes met hers.

It was then that Jiran realized exactly what kind of slave this girl was. The keys to her chains felt heavy over his heart. He ignored it.

“I’m waiting for an answer.” Jiran stated more loudly. The girl shrank away, pulling her legs closer to her. “Oh, wait, do you not speak Basic?” Jiran asked. He switched to Huttese. “(The Twi’lek woman, did she tend to you?).”

“I am sorry. No sir.” The girl replied in Basic.

Jiran was surprised, but he didn’t blame the girl for not responding quickly. He wouldn’t be too talkative either if he was the one being trafficked. 

“Alright. So, are you hungry? Or do you need to use the refresher? I would assume both considering we’ve been flying for a few hours now. Sorry about that, by the way. Usually we don’t have passengers.” Jiran cringed after calling the girl a passenger. 

“Yes to both. May I have some water, please sir?” The girl responded.

“Sure. I’ll be right back from the galley.” Jiran said. The girl called out to him before he could leave.

“My food is provided. It is in the luggage by the console across from me.” The girl said. She pointed with both bound hands towards a pair of black cases by the Holonet access. 

The first case contained nothing but clothing and toiletries. The second case had a few containers of rations and water. By the looks of it, not enough to last her the whole trip. They’d have to pick more food up when they stopped to refuel. 

Jiran placed the ration along with the water on the table in front of the girl. She stared at her dinner, then back at Jiran. “I apologize sir. I… still need to use the facilities.” The girl said quietly.

“Right. Sorry. Let me go get my co-pilot so she can escort you. We’re landing soon anyway, so I should probably tend to that.” Jiran said. The girl called out to stop him from leaving again.

“Sir, I beg you. I need to go.” The girl pleaded.

Jiran steeled himself. He wasn’t sure which he’d rather do, help the girl use the refresher or talk to a likely still enraged Calla. “I’m sure you don’t want me to take you.” Jiran said with a forced smile.

The girl’s horrified expression and futile attempt to put more distance between herself and Jiran made him realize he should probably have heeded his grandmother’s advice about thinking before speaking. 

“I meant to the refresher! It would be kind of awkward, with the restraints and all.” Jiran said, motioning to the cuffs and collar. 

The girl calmed down a bit. She was obviously still uneasy, but who wouldn’t be in her place? She sat sadly at the table and struggled to open her water. Jiran watched the pathetic display. He sighed.

“Stand up.” Jiran commanded. The girl stood up immediately. Jiran pulled out a key and held up her wrists. “Now, don’t make me regret this.”

The girl rubbed her newly freed wrists. “You will not. I promise.” The girl said. Suddenly, she placed her arms around Jiran’s upper back in an embrace. 

Jiran was extremely confused. He felt that he had made a mistake by not immediately pushing the girl away, although he could not dwell on that thought, as it was interrupted by a massive, throbbing pain in his crotch. This was followed by a fall. Once the pain subsided and his vision returned, Jiran realized he was now cuffed to the game table. He felt his pockets for the keys, but they were missing, along with the control switch for the shock collar. Thankfully, the collar itself was not on his neck. He tried to stand up, but nearly vomited. 

He called out for Calla several times until she came running into the lounge. She immediately saw the predicament her captain had gotten into. 

“What did you do?!” Calla exclaimed.

“Not the time! Just get these off of me!” Jiran shouted. 

“Do you have the keys?” Calla asked. 

“Yeah, I just felt like taking a nap down here and I wanted to be extra secure, so I had the girl put the cuffs on me. Of course I don’t have the keys! The girl has them. Just use your vibroblade to free me. Did you see her?” Jiran asked.

Calla was annoyed but did as she was told. “I did not see her. Someone had to land. Rocky told me you were checking in on the girl. That is what you were doing, correct?” 

“Yeah, what about it? I uncuffed her to take her- Watch where you’re cutting!- to the ‘fresher and she,” Jiran paused for a moment, “knocked my head against the table. A lot.”

“Odd. I see no bruising?” Calla said while looking over Jiran’s head.

“That’s not important right now! We’ve got to get the girl before we land.” Jiran said, rising shakily to his feet. He walked into the main corridor and Calla followed.

“I’ve already landed, but don’t worry, I have not opened the ship’s boarding ramp.” Calla said. 

Just then, the characteristic hiss of the ship opening up was heard, along with frantic footsteps running on metal. Jiran and Calla looked at each other before breaking out into a sprint. Rocky watched as the organics bolted out of the ship. He thought about helping them give chase, but decided instead to inspect the ship and perform maintenance. After paying the very angry droid attendant that was threatening to blow up the ship, of course.

“Maybe this is a sign.” Calla said sarcastically. She easily kept pace with Jiran. He seemed to have some kind of stomach pain, with his hunched running form. 

“Yeah, a sign that one of us is going to get shot the next time he shows his face in public.” Jiran spat. 

The girl kept running. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know where she was. Anything was better than being enslaved. She was going to keep her freedom, no matter what.


	4. Drinking on the Job

Jiran rested against a wall to catch his breath as Calla came up next to him. They’d lost the girl after she ran into a crowd in the middle of the spaceport. 

“May I ask what our next steps are, Captain?” Calla inquired.

“How are you not tired?” Jiran asked, still huffing and puffing.

Calla shrugged. “I like to stay in shape. I also don’t scream my head off while I run. Rough on the lungs, that.”

Jiran looked around after the burning in his lungs died down. It seemed to be late in the evening on this world if the setting sun and rising moons in the sky were any indication. “Okay, here’s the plan: we continue looking for the girl, and then we deliver her to the client.”

Calla looked at him incredulously. “Care to elaborate?”

He waved her off. “I’ll think of something. If I can’t, well, I can always have you shoot me.”

The slave was glad her pursuers hadn’t tried to shoot her. She had to keep running. That was all there was to it. The man and the woman in the ship were going to take her away. She knew why. She heard what happened to the girls who got sold. She’d rather have been sent with the soldiers in the white armor. 

The man and woman stopped chasing her after a few minutes. She knew she lost them because the man had quit calling after her when he lost her in the crowds. Now was the time to breathe and collect her thoughts. She was free. But now what? The brightly lit signs on all the buildings around her and the crowds milling about suddenly registered to her. It was suffocating. She had no idea what to do next. Gone was the brave young woman making a break for freedom. In her place was a scared girl who didn’t know what to do.   
Jiran and Calla decided to enter a cantina near the spaceport’s center. Considering the assortment of tough-looking characters sizing them up as they made their way inside, there was a good chance that this was exactly the kind of place they needed to be avoiding. 

“How long do you think until one of these guys marks me?” Jiran whispered to Calla.

“Captain, please. They aren’t looking at you.” Calla replied.

The smugglers settled themselves at the mostly empty counter and ordered some drinks to avoid suspicion. In addition to helping them blend in, Jiran could use the alcohol to calm his nerves after making the biggest mistake of his career. 

“So, do you want to make a run for it, or should we just get it over with and shoot each other?” Jiran asked as he took a sip of his drink. The smell made him gag. He had ordered a comet, which caused the bartender to give him a dirty look. Comets were some of the cheapest alcoholic beverages one could order almost anywhere in the galaxy due to being made with the cheapest local liquor available and ice. Or cold rocks, if ice was hard to come by. 

Calla put her drink down. “What I want is to know what happened to you on the ship. And please, tell me the truth this time.”

“...I uncuffed the girl to take her to the refresher and she hit me in my boys. Happy?” Jiran muttered.

“I’m sorry, what?” Calla asked. 

“You heard me.” Jiran chugged the rest of his drink. He grimaced. “Do you think we’ll find her? What am I saying? Of course not.” He ordered another comet. He downed it immediately. It burned his throat and he hoped Calla couldn’t see his eyes beginning to water.

“Captain, much as I need a laugh right now, I think you should slow down with the drinking before you make a fool of yourself.” Calla said.

“Easy for you to say. If your ticket to freedom ran out on you, you’d be having a breakdown too.” Jiran said. He chuckled quietly at the thought that his freedom was dependent on the enslavement of another. 

“This is you having a breakdown? Sitting down and quietly drinking? I expected tears, or perhaps a bar fight at least.” Calla asked. “I commend you for your manners. Although I suppose the night is still young.”

“It’s just how I was raised, I guess.” Jiran sighed and looked at his empty glass. “My grandparents wanted me to be a respectable young man, after all. They wanted to finally raise someone they could be proud of. And here I am, drinking cheap booze in a filthy cantina because I botched a job and now I’m going to have a slaver come and kill me.” 

“And the Hutts, Captain.” Calla added.

“Right, them too. Can’t forget the First Order either.” Jiran said. He ordered another drink.

“You do realize that we spent hardly any time searching for the girl, don’t you? Far be it from me to encourage the trafficking of sentients, but you’ve given up quite easily.” Calla said.

Jiran paused mid-gulp. “That’s true. Don’t matter. Probably have a better life here anyway. She can fight.”

“Captain, we saw half a dozen corpses on the way here.” Calla said. 

“They were still clothed. If they weren’t maybe I’d be a little worried. Clothed corpses means people around here don’t need to steal off of them.” Jiran said, running his finger in the rim of his now empty glass.

Calla facepalmed. “You had us go back to the ship for more weapons. Your pockets are full of thermal detonators. Which is another reason you need to stop drinking!” She scooted away from him after that.

“Hey. Listen. I am not going to do anything stupid. Can’t a guy feel sorry for himself without getting lectured?” Jiran cradled his head in his hands. 

“Captain?” Calla asked. “I know your tolerance for alcohol is quite low, but you have not had very much to drink.”

Jiran lifted his head and ran his hands down his face. “Kriffing hell. What have I been drinking?” 

As if on cue, the bartender placed the bottle down in front of the smugglers. It was fairly wide and shared more in common with a fuel canister than a liquor bottle. Its lack of a label and beaten up appearance did not inspire confidence.

“Somehow, I doubt that this was produced in a licensed distillery.” Calla said.

“Still thirsty, lad?” The bartender asked. Jiran weakly nodded his head to answer no. “Thought not. That’ll be 12 creds for you, and 10 from your lady.” 

“Whad? Whad pricesh are thosh?” Jiran slurred. “Thad shtuff wash wadered down.”

“It only tasted like that because the drink put your tongue to sleep. If you don’t like it, I suggest you leave before I decide to do the same to you.” The bartender threatened. 

“We’ll be going. Here’s your payment.” Calla replied as she hastily dragged out a now much more uncoordinated Jiran. She really should have jumped ship when she had the chance.

The slave was starting to regret jumping ship when she had the chance. “Hey there missy. You lost?” A bald human asked the slave. She eyed him with suspicion. There was something off about him. He smiled and offered out his hand, but she saw through him. Why else would he be lurking around in an abandoned alley at night?

Her suspicions were confirmed when he brought a knife out from behind his back. She revealed a surprise of her own and smacked him in the head with her concealed shock collar. The heavier part of the lock collided with his temple. The bald man collapsed. The slave searched his pockets, but found nothing of value. She took his knife, though. She really wished she had taken the smuggler’s blaster when she made her escape. What was his name? Jiran. Right. That’s what the Twi’lek Calla had called him. 

The girl left the alley before the bald man could wake up. If he did she’d have to hit him harder this time. She walked away as quickly as she could without drawing suspicion, thankful that this part of the spaceport was almost deserted. She wasn’t even ten yards away when she felt a blaster poking at her back. 

“Don’t worry, this isn’t a robbery. I’m collecting a bounty.” The blaster-wielding stranger said.   
The slave didn’t reply. 

“Not so talkative, are ya? Ah, well, can’t say I mind. Anyway, drop your weapons and such, don’t try anything, you’ve seen holo-serials, you get what’s going on.” The stranger said.

The slave complied. There was no way she could move faster than the stranger could pull the trigger. The collar and knife fell to the ground. She slowly turned to face the bounty hunting stranger. He was a Sullustan. Taller than her, but not by as much as the smuggler Jiran. He put a pair of cuffs on her. Well, freedom was nice while it lasted.

“There we go! See, neither of us got hurt. If you’re good, I won’t slap that collar on you. Start walking.” The Sullustan bounty hunter commanded. “Man is this gonna be a good payday.” 

Calla hated being more responsible than her captain. She expected a certain level of professionalism and he often failed to deliver. The irony was that Jiran’s ability to deliver on his promises was what kept Calla from leaving him on his own. Up until recently she also respected his track record on slave trading. That went down in flames. With Calla dragging his barely conscious carcass on her shoulder, Jiran was now dead weight in more ways than one.

The streets of the spaceport had hardly seen a decrease in foot traffic since nightfall. With the constant movement of people and ships, it wasn’t hard to believe that the slave was halfway across the galaxy by now. If she hadn’t stowed away on her own, it was likely that some criminal elements had abducted her. Spaceport snatchings were nothing new, especially when one looked as helpless as the girl they were smuggling. Calla had lost count of how many times she had heard of people disappearing after travelling to spaceports outside of the Core. Some of them were her friends.

“Hey, Calla! Jiran!” 

The familiar voice calling out to her and Jiran did not belong to a friend. Jiran stirred on her shoulder.

“Ish thad Miesho?” Jiran mumbled without opening his eyes. 

Jiran’s question was answered by the Sullustan bounty hunter waltzing up to the pair of smugglers.

“Am I glad to see you two.” Miesho said.

“If only we could say the same.” Calla replied.

Jiran mumbled something unintelligible. Miesho gave him an odd look.

“Uh-huh, you too, Jiran. Anyway, we can catch up on my ship. You would not believe the day I’ve had.” Miesho said. The blaster in his hand indicated that this was not a request.

Miesho’s ship was, thankfully, only a short walk away. With the smugglers and the bounty hunter onboard, away from untrustworthy eavesdroppers, Miesho finally began to tell his tale.

“Long story short: I found two well-paying bounties in one day, on the same planet! Do you know what that’s like for bounty hunters?” Miesho threw one arm into the air in celebration, making sure to keep his blaster trained on an unamused Calla. “It’s like if you two got a fat New Republic shipping contract without bribing anyone!”

“If you think we’re just going to let you take us you’re quite mistaken.” Calla spat. Of course Miesho would decide to be brief about the only information Calla cared about, and not the horribly convoluted story of the breakfast he ate this morning that he told her on the way to the ship. 

“I might have been a little unclear with the whole ‘two bounties’ thing. You’re still clean, far as I know. I picked up some slave girl before you and Jiran. Personally I don’t see why anyone would put a bounty out on a slave. I mean they could buy a dozen slaves with what they’re paying me to catch her. Captain Galak there is my second bounty. I apologize, I really should have cleared that up sooner. Probably explains why you weren’t making much conversation on the way here.” Miesho explained. “I mean Jiran’s drunk and half-dead, but he was much more into the conversation than you were.” 

“Do you believe I’ll simply leave him at your mercy? Have you any idea what’ll happen to my reputation if word gets out that I betrayed my captain?” Calla asked. She kept her cool despite learning that Miesho had captured a slave girl. She hoped the girl Miesho captured wasn’t the one that had escaped her and Jiran’s half-hearted pursuit. Miesho wasn’t small-time. If he knew Calla was looking for the same girl, he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her. 

Miesho thought for a moment. “People’ll hear you have your own ship and you need a co-pilot? Oh, the betrayal thing. Eh, it’s not like nobody ever sells out their crewmates. If anything they’ll think you’re smart for not defying Rotta the Hutt. The Hutts might not be the biggest and baddest outfit in the galaxy anymore, but come on! They’ve been at this longer than the Old Republic even existed!” 

“You always were an optimist. How can I trust you to let me leave this ship alive?” Calla said.

“If I were going to kill you I wouldn’t have called out your name out in the middle of a crowded street. I would’ve shot you instead.” Miesho stated.

Calla thought that was a fair point. “Do you have anywhere in particular you’d like me to place Jiran?” 

“Just drop him there. Not like he can go anywhere in the state he’s in.” Miesho replied. “And don’t even think of pulling a blaster on me.”

Calla let Jiran drop to the ground and she took her leave. Miesho thought it was curious that she left without much resistance. He took Jiran’s blaster and dragged him to the ship’s holding cell. Miesho plopped Jiran onto a bench and cuffed his wrists. 

“Keep an eye on him, will you?” Miesho asked the slave already occupying the cell. “He’s not dangerous or anything like that, just kinda dumb. Hope you’re settled in because we have got to get the hell off of this rock.” With that, Miesho hastily made his way to the cockpit.

The slave looked at Jiran’s slumped over form. She could easily kill him even with her hands bound. If he started vomiting all she had to do was keep him on his back. Or, just maybe, she could use him. A smile crossed her face. If Jiran was gullible enough to free her earlier perhaps he’d make himself useful again.


End file.
